


School's Out

by Hovercraft79



Series: All The Magic [2]
Category: The Worst Witch (TV 2017)
Genre: F/F, Hackle, Hackle Summer Trope Challenge, The worst witch 2017 - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-07
Updated: 2020-06-07
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:22:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24583735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hovercraft79/pseuds/Hovercraft79
Summary: Somehow, Ada Cackle managed to survive her first year back at the Academy in almost twenty years. She wished she could say it had been a success, but she doesn’t like to lie to herself. Her mother didn’t hesitate to mention she hadn’t even managed to make any friends. Feeling adrift, she turns to the mysterious woman residing in Darkwood Cottage – the only person even more tied to Cackle’s than she is.
Relationships: Amelia Cackle | Ada Cackle & Alma Cackle, Amelia Cackle | Ada Cackle & Hardbroom
Series: All The Magic [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1776937
Comments: 18
Kudos: 38
Collections: The Hackle Summer Trope Challenge





	School's Out

**Author's Note:**

> This continues the story I began during last year’s challenge. If you haven’t read ‘Hello’, this one might not make as much sense to you.  
> In my head, this should be a trilogy of trilogies when it’s done, hopefully filling in a lot of Ada and Hecate’s backstory. Above all, it’s the story of two witches who meet, grow and learn together, deal with crises large and small, and maybe even fall in love.
> 
> I’ve kept everything within canon (though I did keep the 13-year age difference between Ada and Hecate, there’s certainly room for Ada to be older than that). If you notice anything that I missed feel free to let me know. This is using the ‘Last Day of School’ prompt.
> 
> I started this fic on my last day of school this year, so of course, the title is ‘School’s Out’ by Alice Cooper.
> 
> As always, I owe Sparky my thanks for her editing skills – especially after dealing with the monster of ‘An Uncertain Spring.’ I can’t believe she’s still doing this for me, either.

Hecate stood at the edge of the woods, watching another class of graduates fly away for the last time. Bile rose in her throat and she swallowed. Hard. Five years, over and done with. Somehow, they managed to both fly and crawl at the same time. As the girls disappeared from view, Hecate realized they were the last of the girls who would have been students with her. Next term, none who knew her would be left. She told herself she was glad of it, but it rang hollow, even to her. With a curl of her fingers, Hecate transferred back to Darkwood Cottage.

* * *

Ada waved as the last girls took to the skies. Summer had finally arrived, bringing an end to her first year back at Cackle’s. Her fingers itched for a cigarette, but her mother had insisted she quit. Thirty-five years old or no, sometimes it was easier to just give in. She wished her jangling nerves would get on with it, though. Feeling too edgy to transfer, Ada trudged back to her mother’s office.

Alma peered at Ada over the top of her glasses. “That’s the last of them, then?”

“The Feverfew twins were the last to depart. I don’t know how two girls can possibly accumulate so many things. It will be a wonder if they manage to make it home with everything.”

“Two of everything,” Alma said, nodding. “They’ve never had to share.”

“Lucky girls.” Ada gave her mother a knowing look. She and Agatha had regularly been forced to share: clothes, toys, books. Why have two of anything when one will do?

“Spoiled, if you ask me.” Alma signed the last form with a flourish and put her pen away. “Is everything ready for the end-of-term staff party? Will we have a full complement?”

“We have a room booked at The Red Cauldron down in the village at seven. I believe they’ve included karaoke as part of the package.” She could only imagine the size of the bar tab that would be needed to get her up on the stage.

“I’ll pray Miss Gullet doesn’t get into her cups again this year. I don’t think I can take another performance of _I Touch Myself_.” She shuddered at the memory. “I’ve invited Mrs. Drill to join us as well.”

“As far as I know, everyone is planning to attend,” Ada said, trying to change the subject. “I didn’t know whether I should invite Miss Hardbroom. I did.”

Alma paused for a moment before shrugging a shoulder and carrying on with tidying her desk. “I doubt she’ll attend, but it was kind of you to invite her.”

Ada frowned. “Isn’t she usually included? She’s sort of like staff, isn’t she?”

“I’ve never thought so. More like an independent contractor, or a local farmer, I suppose.”

Pouring a cup of tea, Ada watched as her mother focused intently on organizing her desk drawer. Ada recognized the sign that Alma didn’t really want to discuss it. “What does she do all summer? Miss Hardbroom?” She schooled her voice into an artificial casualness. “How does she fill the days?”

“I’m sure I don’t know,” Alma replied, just as casually. “How she spends her days is her business, not mine.”

“Out of sight, out of mind… is that it?” Ada said, allowing her voice to fill with Tone.

“Hardly,” Alma fired back. Ada bristled, but Alma pinned her in place with a pointed finger. “Before you get your broomstick bent out of shape, tell me, daughter, what are Geraldine’s plans for summer? Or Gwen’s? No?” She leaned back in her chair, steepling her fingers in front of her chin. “Go on then, I’ll make it easy for you. Choose any kitchen witch you please and tell me her summer plans.”

A shame-faced Ada opened and closed her mouth several times before throwing her hands up in defeat. “I don’t know.”

“Why not? They’re your coworkers. You all live together in the castle. You should be friendly, if not friends. What on earth do you talk about at meals, then?”

“I don’t know,” Ada repeated. She fought the urge to fidget. How was it possible that her mother could still make her feel like she was eight years old and sitting on the naughty step?

Alma sent a thin stream of magic into her teacup, warming it back up. “Well, maybe you’ll know this, daughter: how do you feel when I ask you about your summer plans? After all, I’m your mother as well as your Headmistress. Certainly, I’ve cause to know your general plans at least, but you’re still cagey about them, nonetheless. So how do you feel?”

Ada gave the question some consideration before she answered. “Like you’re dipping your spoon in my cauldron. It’s not your business.”

“Aye – except sometimes it is. That girl, Hecate, that you’re so worried about, has nothing she can truly call her own save for her time, a few personal possessions, and her privacy. I’ve no care to take any of those things away from her.”

Remembering the hundreds of bottles and jars in Darkwood Cottage, Ada wondered what her mother’s definition of ‘a few’ possessions was. Speaking of the cottage… “Couldn’t you give her Darkwood? Sign it over to her? Then she’d have something of her own, a home, at least. It’s not like the Aca—”

“I can’t.”

“Of course, we can. We don’t even need it. It wouldn’t cost us a thing.”

Alma shook her head. “I can’t. It may not cost the Academy anything, but Hecate? She would lose everything. She can’t leave the grounds.” Ada stared blankly at her mother. “Och, use your head, child. If I give her the cottage, it’s no longer a part of Cackle’s Academy.”

“Oh…” Ada said, deflating. “I didn’t think of that.”

“Neither did we when we tried it.” Alma took her glasses off, letting them dangle from the cord around her neck. “Look, Ada, I know that you don’t trust me, because of… well, because of how I dealt with your sister. You don’t think I’m willing or able to do right by this girl. But Hecate is not Agatha. Her mistakes were born of loneliness, not malice.” She sipped her tea. “I’d also like to think I’ve learned from my own mistakes. But if you need to make me the wicked witch, so be it. I’ve resigned myself to the part.”

“I’m sure you’ve done your best.” Ada shifted uncomfortably in her seat. She wasn’t used to this much introspection from her mother. It didn’t sit well. “I just can’t help but think that she has to be so lonely.”

Smiling sadly, Alma nodded. “I’m sure she is.”

“There must be something we can do…”

“Try making friends with her, Ada. Frankly, it sounds like you could both use one.” With that, Alma put her glasses back on and returned to tidying her drawer. Ada knew the conversation was over.

* * *

She was trying, truly she was. Loathe as she was to admit it, Ada knew her mother was right. She didn’t really have any friends here. After her conversation with her mother, Ada had been ashamed to say she couldn’t even name all the kitchen witches with certainty – she never knew if she was speaking to Maria Tapioca or Maisie Tapenade. Trying to ‘make friends,’ Ada was now into her second hour of listening to Mrs. Coriander and Miss Bat gossiping about the latest scandal in the Magic Council. _Surely_ , Ada thought, _I deserve a cigarette after this_.

Just when Ada thought she couldn’t take any more, Hecate Hardbroom materialized right inside the kitchen door. She took a slight step back when she realized Mrs. Coriander wasn’t alone.

“Forgive my interruption,” she said, placing the back of her hand against her forehead and bowing slightly. “I simply wanted to…” She waved a thin hand and a gallon of milky liquid appeared on the table. “I’ve finished the supplements for the familiars. I expect the litters will be due soon.”

“At the full moon,” Mrs. Coriander said. She carried the jug into the walk-in cooler. “The usual teaspoon mixed with their food?”

“Yes.” Hecate looked uncomfortably at Ada and Miss Bat. “I didn’t expect to run into you, Miss Bat. I would have thought you would be out enjoying your summer break.” No one mentioned that everyone knew Miss Bat spent her summers searching for Mr. Rowan-Webb.

“Soon, dear, soon.”

Ada stepped closer, smiling brightly. “We thought we might enjoy a picnic supper down by the lake this evening. Would you care to join us?”

Hecate blanched. “That’s kind of you to offer, but… I don’t wish to intrude.” Her mouth moved into a tight line that she probably meant to be a smile. “I really shouldn’t leave my work.”

“Ah, well. Perhaps another time.” Ada pushed away from the table. “Speaking of work… I’d best get back to it.” She bid the rest of them good afternoon. Mrs. Coriander made her excuses a moment later.

“How about you, Miss Hardbroom?” Gwen blinked up at Hecate, waiting. At the edge of her vision she could see Hecate’s fingers nervously rubbing against her thumbs. When she didn’t get an answer, she waved a hand and pulled a stool up to the table, gesturing for Hecate to sit. Once Hecate had settled on the stool, Gwen leaned forward. “Do you know what the best thing is about getting old?” she whispered conspiratorially. Hecate shook her head. “You get to give people advice, whether they’ve asked for it or not.” She leaned back and waved her hands in the air. “And you youngsters just have to listen! It’s wonderful!”

Hecate bristled a bit on her stool. “I’m hardly a child, Miss Bat.”

“Certainly not. In fact, you’ve grown into a brilliant witch and a lovely young woman. And I’m going to give you some advice anyway.” She reached out and took Hecate’s hand in her own. “Whatever happens, you have your whole life ahead of you. Perhaps you’ll find a way to release Miss Moon soon. Perhaps not. Either way, it’s a foolish witch that turns down an offer of friendship.”

“I don’t want Miss Cackle’s pity,” Hecate said, pulling her hand away.

Gwen tutted her disagreement. “Pity? What pity? All I saw was another young witch inviting you to join us for dinner. If anything, you should be the one to take pity on Ada.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Look around, dear,” she watched Hecate looking at the kitchen in confusion. “Not here, the Academy. Ada may be a bit older than you, but she’s decades younger than anyone else. Would you really leave Ada to the likes of her mother? Or Miss Inkwell in the library? Or me, for Merlin’s sake?”

“Surely Miss Gullet would make a more appropriate companion.”

Gwen clutched at her chest and gasped. Hecate rolled her eyes at the dramatics. “Hecate Hardbroom! I’ve never known you to be a cruel girl. I wouldn’t believe you capable of such cruelty!”

“W-what?” Hecate stood, eyes wide.

Leaning forward, Gwen motioned for Hecate to lean in as well. “Miss Gullet may be younger,” Gwen whispered, “but we all know she’s bloody awful company. I can’t believe you’d abandon Ada to that.”

Hecate leaned back, irritated and a bit guilty – she didn’t like Geraldine Gullet in the least. Still, to risk opening herself up to another person, even Ada Cackle who’d been nothing but nice…

“Think on it, dear. We witches live a long time; don’t spend all that time alone.” With a pat on Hecate’s knee, Miss Bat ambled out of the kitchen. Hecate stayed on her stool for a long time, thinking.

* * *

Astragalus… eyebright… neem… Ada needed to restock those ingredients first and foremost. As much as her mother had gone on about the high standards of Cackle’s potions program, Ada had been shocked at the state of the potions cupboard. Disorganized, untidy, and poorly stocked, it had taken Miss Gullet only a year to create utter chaos. Ada had managed to muddle through her first year with it in this state but feared she would spend all summer sorting it.

An itch of magic let her know someone had entered the lab.

“Ada?” Alma called from the doorway.

“In here,” Ada called back, hastily exiting. She didn’t want her mother to see the state of the storeroom.

“What is this?” Ada’s mother held up an over-sized leather tome. “This arrived in today’s post. I’ve not ordered a new copy of _Thornapple’s_.”

“Perhaps that would explain why it wasn’t addressed to you,” Ada said sweetly. She took the book from her mother, admiring the tooled leather cover. “It arrived sooner than I expected. Splendid! I feared it would take half the summer to get here.”

“You ordered that? Without checking?” Alma pursed her lips and shook her head. “It’s not in the Academy budget. You’ll have to return it.”

Grinning smugly, Ada held the book close. “Good thing I didn’t use Academy funds then, isn’t it? Be happy, Mother, I’m taking your advice.”

Alma’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “What advice?”

“I’m making friends.” Ada hefted the book in her hands. “Let’s hope I haven’t forgotten how.” While Hecate Hardbroom certainly intrigued Ada, she also recognized how valuable it would be to have someone she could talk to who didn’t work for Cackle’s Academy.

* * *

Darkwood Cottage appeared below Ada. She turned her broom to land a respectable distance away. The last time she’d been to the cottage it wasn’t even spring, really, but the gardens had already been in bloom. Now, in early summer, the gardens thrummed with life. Tidy rows of vegetables lined the back of the cottage while flowers and herbs rambled across the front. She could see Hecate working at the side of the cottage. The scent of roses wafted up to meet her before she even touched the ground.

As Ada dismounted her broom, Hecate hastened over, removing her gardening gloves and wiping her hands on her work apron. “Well met, Miss Cackle. How may I help you today?”

“Please, call me Ada,” she said, returning the greeting. She closed her eyes, breathing in the rich scent of warm earth and sun-kissed herbs – and the roses! The floral, slightly spicy smell was even stronger on the ground. “I’d love a tour of your gardens. It’s all so magnificent!”

Hecate blushed and looked down at her worn leather gloves. “If you’d like.” She led Ada around the cottage, pointing out the different microclimates she’d created and discussing the various spells involved. Ada had been impressed with the spell Hecate created to increase the amount of sunshine her plants could receive so deeply in the woods. She also enjoyed watching as the reticent woman grew ever more animated as she talked about her plants.

“I just can’t get over it – combining a basic weather spell with a moving spell! How marvelously clever!” She couldn’t get over the number of varietals Hecate managed to grow, from aloe vera to zedoary. While she examined the delicate leaves of a common wormwood, a sudden thought popped into Ada’s head. “Why don’t we purchase our potions ingredients from you?” It hadn’t occurred to her when Hecate had helped her replace the nettles for the spring Imbolc luncheon, but she’d paid regular bills to Goodcharm’s Apothecary Supplies. A cloud passed across Hecate’s face, blink-and-you-miss-it fast. Luckily, Ada hadn’t blinked. “It makes no sense for us to use Goodcharm’s.”

“Miss Gullet prefers it that way.” Hecate’s voice and face had both been schooled into a careful neutrality.

Ada stood, hands on her hips and frowning. “That makes no sense. The ingredients would be fresher, shipping costs would be eliminated,” she waved a hand over the garden. “Quality is indisputably higher.”

“I believe the issue is me,” Hecate said, coloring again. “Miss Gullet does not care for me.”

“Well that’s something we have in common.” Ada moved into the shade of the cottage. The magically enhanced sunshine blazing down on her black t-shirt and jeans was getting uncomfortable. “I offended her when I declined her offer to mentor me.”

Hecate winced. “Oh dear.” The corner of her mouth twitched upward. “I corrected her about a potions ingredient. She wanted to grate burdock root when the instructions clearly recommended crushing.”

Ada let out a long, low whistle. “You win.” She wiped away a bead of perspiration that trickled down her temple.

Hecate’s easy posture jerked into rigidness. “Forgive me, Miss Cackle, I’ve forgotten my manners completely. Would you care to come in and cool off? It’s a bit warm for tea, but I’ve made a pitcher of strawberry-basil lemonade.”

“I’d love to!” Ada smiled brightly and followed her inside. “And I do believe it was me who showed up unannounced – again – and requested a tour. I should apologize for my own lack of manners – and for throwing off your plans for the day.”

Hecate ushered her into the sitting area, a small space in the living room filled with what Ada recognized as cast-off furniture from the Academy. Ada made herself comfortable while Hecate disappeared into the kitchen. She scanned the room, still marveling at the impressive collection of ingredients. Impossible as it seemed, the room looked to contain even more jars and bottles than it had during her last visit. Perhaps that was due to two extra tables being squeezed in under the windows.

Hecate returned, floating a tray holding a pitcher of pink lemonade, two glasses and a plate of biscuits in front of her. Once they’d settled in with their refreshments, silence fell. It only took a few minutes before it started to feel uncomfortable.

Ada nodded towards the tables. “I see you’re preparing to brew some new potions. May I ask what you’re planning?” She took another sip of her lemonade. Sweet and sour balanced one another perfectly while the basil added an earthy note that was simply delicious. _A splash of vodka wouldn’t hurt_ _it, either_ , she thought. “This is wonderful – it really hits the spot.”

“Thank you,” Hecate said, smiling shyly. Normally, she enjoyed it at the end of her time outside. She turned to look at the tables before answering Ada’s question. “I’m about to start on the inoculations for the kittens. They’ll need to be ready by the time the kittens are six weeks old.”

“I didn’t know you made those.”

“I try to be of service.” Hecate set her biscuit back on the plate. “I do what I can to… lessen the burden of my confinement.”

“You aren’t a burden,” Ada insisted. “In fact, that reminds me of why I came today.” She summoned a wrapped package and placed it on the coffee table in front of Hecate. “I wanted to thank you properly for saving my skin at Imbolc.” Hecate looked at the package as though it would scald her if she touched it.

“I can’t… This really isn’t necessary…” Even as she protested, a slender finger traced the edge of the blue ribbon.

Ada couldn’t help but notice the reverence in Hecate’s touch. She wondered when Hecate had last been given a simple gift. “You can, and it was. Go on then.”

Curiosity finally won out and Hecate picked up the package. If Ada expected her to be the type that meticulously opened gifts, she was wrong. Hecate ripped the paper off with abandon, dropping the scraps to the floor. She didn’t even bother to untie the ribbon, she just sliced it away with a thin stream of magic. Once the box had been revealed, Hecate slowed down, carefully removing the lid and unfolding the tissue paper inside.

Her head snapped up, eyes wide with surprise. “ _Thornapple’s Advanced Potionry_? Miss Cackle… it’s very thoughtful… and – not that I’m not grateful! But… it’s too much.” Despite her words, Hecate’s eyes roamed over the cover with anticipation. Lifting the book reverently out of the box, she breathed in the scent of leather and inked pages. “It is beautiful.”

“Indeed. And it’s yours.” She leaned over and opened the cover of the book, revealing an inscription thanking Hecate for saving the day last spring and for everything else she does for the Academy. “As the girls say, ‘no backsies.’ The book is yours. I thought we didn’t need to be going back and forth with the one copy in the library. Plus, since it belongs to you, you can make whatever notes you like in it.”

“I don’t know what to say,” Hecate whispered. She looked at Ada with shining eyes. “Thank you.”

The silence descended again as Hecate read through the first pages of her new book. This time it sat a bit more comfortably around them.

Mission accomplished, Ada finished her lemonade, wondering where they would go next. She still doubted that Hecate would be inviting her over for tea – or that she’d accept an invitation from Ada. Her eyes kept wandering over the potions stores, finally coming to rest on the tables. Hecate hadn’t started on the kitten potions yet, but a slight metallic tang in the air told Ada that another potion was brewing somewhere. She remembered the lab behind one of the bedroom doors that she’d seen the last time she’d been here. An idea began to form.

“I wonder, Miss Hardbroom, if you’d could use a laboratory assistant to help prepare the potions for the kittens? Many hands make lighter work, as they say.”

Hecate tore her eyes away from the book, slightly alarmed. “That’s kind, but I couldn’t ask Mrs. Cackle to cover the expense, and… I’m not an appropriate mentor for a student.”

“I disagree with you on your second part. I think any student would be lucky to have you as a mentor. As for the first, it’s not an issue. I’m offering up myself. I’d be honored if you’d allow me to assist you this summer.”

Hecate’s eyebrows practically disappeared into her hairline. “B-But… you’re the Potions Mistress! You’re going to be the Headmistress in a few years!”

“True enough. And I am a good potions teacher, as well as a good potioneer in general. Very good. But I’m not so full of myself that I can’t tell when I’m in the presence of a great potioneer. I’m offering a trade, Miss Hardbroom: my labor for the chance to learn from you. Who knows? Having someone else to bounce ideas off might even help you with your own projects.” Ada leaned back on the sofa, willing Hecate to say yes. “What do you say, Miss Hardbroom?”

For her part, Hecate had every intention of saying no, and was about to do so when she remembered what Miss Bat had said. Ada truly did represent a chance for a friendship with someone who wouldn’t disappear in a few years. Plus, not once in a single interaction had Hecate looked into her eyes and seen pity. “I… I… I say you should call me Hecate.” In a single motion, Hecate set the book on the sofa and rose to her feet. “I usually run four cauldrons at once,” she said, moving to the tables.

Ada tried to tamp down her enthusiasm as she scrambled to her feet to follow Hecate. “That’s impressive.”

“It’s necessary to get everything finished on time.” Hecate folded her arms across her chest, her brow furrowed as she tried to work out what she wanted to say. Finally, she nodded, more to herself than to Ada. “I start early in the morning. I don’t care for chatter, and I expect things to be done in a certain way.” Closing her eyes, Hecate took a deep breath before continuing. “I’m not an easy person to be around, Miss Cackle. You may regret your offer.”

“I understand, but regret and I have long been acquainted. I can’t live my life worried about the next time our paths might cross. When shall we begin?”

Hecate studied her a moment, weighing the sincerity of Ada’s offer. “Very well. Give me a few days to finish up with my own project and get things gathered. Monday morning? Just after sunrise?”

Ada swallowed. She’d thought early meant eight o’clock, not sunrise. Nonetheless, she’d asked for the opportunity. She held her hand out, holding it until Hecate grasped it with her own. “Monday morning, then,” she said, shaking Hecate’s hand. “I’ll see you then.”

Hecate stood in her doorway long after Ada had disappeared over the trees. She hoped she hadn’t made a terrible mistake. Again.


End file.
